’ ‘But what of justice?’ asked Lucilla, evidently dazed. “Who do you think cares for your children as you dally with my husband, Clotilde?” Lucy asked. Fresh ground, no chicory, and all the rest of it. “You know nothing about the stage. Then she would have quiet times, in which she would say to herself, “Now look here! Let me think it all out!” For the first time, it seemed to her, she faced the facts of a woman’s position in the world—the meagre realities of such freedom as it permitted her, the almost unavoidable obligation to some individual man under which she must labor for even a foothold in the world. At length, the train approached St.
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